Lifelines
by TwinsOfBestFriends
Summary: Set 3 months after "No Rest For The Wicked". Sam isn't the only loved one in need of a reality check or lifeline. Pure smut, you've been warned, and hurt!Sam with some words in between. No slash or Wincest.


**A/N: Hey guys. So not only is this my first published fanfic on this account, but this also my first smut piece. Ever. *shaky nerves inserted here* And not only is it smut, but it's also angsty and has enough sweet moments to last a lifetime. Also, pretend there's no demon-blood and that Ruby never came back after "No Rest For The Wicked". Another 'also': the blanks that I left in the story line? Yeah, I also blanked. Writer's block is a bitch. So use your fancy-schmancy imaginations. (: 'Kay, enjoy!**

**Title: Lifelines**

**Rating: M, for smut and lil' bit of vulgar language**

**Pairings: Sam/OC friendship, Sam/OC romance, Dean/OC romance**

**Categories: Supernatural, romance/family/angst**

Sam collapsed on the hotel mattress, exhausted and ready to fall into nightmares. Had it already been three months? The door he had slammed shut only a few seconds ago reopened to reveal his current partner and trainer, Delilah Keller, with her hip length black hair, deceiving green eyes, jeans, and Metallica tee and dark jeans. Half demon, yes, but not even her former fiancée had realized this. Similar to the now-forgotten Ruby, she had developed a resistance to salt and possessed the traditional snarky attitude- no pun intended. But she was also 'Christo'-proof and hadn't ever needed to worry about holy water.

Delilah was also heavily relied on to keep the younger Winchester grounded to reality at night.

"I hope none of that's yours," the country voice interrupted his thoughts.

'That', Sam mused as he glanced at his own tee and jeans, was dark ruby blood. Again, no pun intended. _I swear, I turn more into Dean every day._ He sobered again at the thought of his brother, before he remembered the question. "I'm fine." At her look of hesitance and unbelief, he added, "Promise."

She nodded, but contrary to her affirmation, responded, "Right. Do you know how many times you've said that to me?"

"It's always been true," he protested, pulling himself up and managing to keep the wince off of his face.

"Not when you continue to gain unnecessary scars every week. Enough is enough, Samuel Winchester." She threw her duffle angrily down on the couch and marched to stand in front of his bed, hands on hip and face seriously prepped for verbal- or physical- battle. "Take off your damn shirt and let me get a look at you." At his typical genetically-inherited smirk, she amended, "Dumbass. Take off your shirt and let me make sure you're not hurt."

He reached behind him, beginning to pull the shirt over his head. "Can we play doctor, too?"

As she crouched between his legs to begin wiping blood off his abs- where the _hell_ did that washcloth come from?- the devilish smile appeared. "Only if I can be a lobotomist. I'd like to see how the brain of a Winchester works."

He stopped smirking. Only long enough to pull bitchface number four before wincing.

"Ah hah. Found it. You liar." She limped- wait, _limped_?- back to the sink and Sam quietly rose to follow her.

"And I'm not the only one hurt." He lightly touched his foot to the side of her calf, forcing her to stumble slightly before recovering and completing the journey.

"I'll heal faster."

He snatched the rag from under the running water and backed her to sit on the toilet lid. "My turn to be doctor." He gently rolled her jeans to the knee, revealing the four inch long bloody gash that tore through muscle. _Shit, that looks painful_.

He quickly and efficiently cleaned the wound with leftover whiskey and the rag before placing the stitches quickly, trying desperately to ignore the pained noises she was making. He had only just begun to clean the fish hook replacement of a needle when he realized his and Delilah's positions had been swapped. _Damn demon speed…_

Sasquatch threw his arms up to prevent his hasty treatment before hers was complete, but his hands were tossed aside with no effort on Delilah's part. "Would you stay the fuck still? Goddamnit, Sam! This is ridiculous!"

As the hook and thread moved towards the neat slice across his chest, he grabbed her wrist. "Oh, _I'm_ ridiculous! Look at you! You walk around, pissed off about me hiding injuries when you're doing the same damn thing! Except I could see your black bloody bones…" He rose to his full height, looking down at her slight 5'4" frame, and took the less than clinical supplies from her. "I'll do it myself. Watch as much as you want to. I don't care."

He paced angrily around the half-blood, back to the living room and sat on the couch, before beginning the painful process of stitching himself up.

_Thirty minutes, a shirtless Sam, and nineteen stitches later…_

Sam Winchester grimaced as the last of the whiskey dripped from his pecs before carefully walking back to the bathroom. He tried to dutifully ignore her few tears while he washed off the hook again. When he had deemed the tool properly cleaned, not sterilized, he placed his hands on her biceps and gently turned her towards him. "Look, Lilah, I didn't mean it. I'm irritated. You're irrita…" He drifted off when it finally occurred to him that her eyes were no longer green, but her customary demonic blue. She looked up, pained.

"It's okay. We both miss him. Christ, I miss him…" She refused to sob, as did the younger brother, although both allowed a few tears to drip menacingly down their faces. He pulled her into his arms, and squeezed his eyes shut when her arms clenched around his middle. "How do you do it? I didn't even know him long as you did, yet you're already out of your rut."

The young man pulled away and used his thumbs to wipe her tears from her eyes, resisting the urge to use his mouth instead. "I think about you. I think that I'm not the only one who needs to be grounded. It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to miss him. Geez, Lilah, he was your _fiancé_. Your best friend. If you didn't screw up and get temperamental, I'd be worried."

She chuckled grimly, using the heels of her hands to scrub her cheeks of any remaining tears or redness. "You know," she dropped her hands to his and held tight, "if we didn't have each other, I think we'd have both been dead right now. Probably a few racks from h-" she stopped.

Probably because Sam had covered her mouth with his own.

He simply remained there for a moment, pulling back but keeping his eyes closed and trying to avoid her look of rejection. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done tha-"

She pulled a Sam and yanked his head down, crashing her lips against his. He gripped her hips tightly, scared nearly to death that this was a figment of his imagination. He caved to the newfound reality when her mouth opened and he felt her tongue trace his lower lip. Without a single moment of hesitation, he opened up to her, sighing deeply when their tongues began to tangle. When his fingers slid a little higher to caress the taut skin across her lower back, Delilah pulled her head back, beginning to kiss softly across his jaw and twist her fingers into his hair. When the demonness reached his pulse point and heard his groan, she whispered quietly, "It's okay. We both need this. A good, hard, one-night fu-"

That was all he needed before grasping the bottom of her shirt and pulling up. The dark haired beauty obediently raised her arms and allowed him to fling the tee-shirt across the room before their teeth and tongues clashed again. She pulled hard at his shaggy brown hair when he began to trace his way down her neck to her collarbone, and the both of them groaned at the feel of her hand tracing his formed abs.

He exhaled loudly when she walked away, wearing her jeans (one leg still rolled up) and the normal black sports bra. (No fancy shmancy lace bra made for strippers for Delilah Keller, no siree.) But when she reached the end of the bed and grinned over her shoulder at him, his confidence level soared again. Sam practically raced across the room to catch up.

Sam placed his lips over hers, simply allowing them to toy together as he fingered the bra hem. Delilah pulled back yet again, her smirk combined with her lust dilated blue eyes only served to uphold her demonic features. "What? You been bitten by one before?" He looked into her eyes, confused. "The bra, Sammy. A damn bra, one ever bite you?" She slowly pulled it off, "Because mine shouldn't."

He gently kissed his way back down her jawline, down the center of her throat when Lilah threw back her head, down through the valley of her breasts. Sam let his fingertips ghost over her already aroused nipples and continue south, his mouth following and lingering over her diaphragm as his hand fumbled roughly with her belt and button. She giggled- talk about uncharacteristic- and gently pushed his hands aside to pull her jeans down herself. Sam rose up again to help her step out of them before crouching yet again and blowing cold air over the tip of her breast. Delilah relaxed and grasped her current lover's broad shoulders as she groaned. He tugged carefully with his teeth as he massaged her left. When she began to shake, she managed to moan, "Okay, seriously. Do you want me to fall over?"

Winchester picked up Delilah and placed her in the middle of the stained comforter. She grasped his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers as he leaned over the bed edge. As their passions continued to rise, her tiny-in-comparison hands surveyed his muscular back and torso, venturing even lower to cup his bulge, his head dropping and breaths increasing as thought he had run a marathon. She quickly and efficiently removed his belt buckle and undid his jeans, pushing them as far as her short arms would allow before he was forced to struggle in kicking them off.

He chuckled when he looked back down on her. Her hair seemed to be fairly normal, but her eyelids were half closed and dilated, and she panted like a cat in heat. "If this is you when we've only just begun…"

Lilah boldly reached down his boxers and grasped his length in her calloused hand, smirking at his quick inhalation and closed eyes, "Yeah, it's gonna be a good night."

He gingerly settled himself between her legs and allowed his left elbow to support his weight. With his right hand, in complete contrast to only a few moments ago, he gently brushed her dark curls from her face, traced the outline of her cheekbone and jaw. As his hand drifted down to her breast, he gently kissed Delilah's temples, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and finally her mouth, letting his lips linger. Sammy knelt back, and maintained eye contact while he hooked his thumbs under the band of her soaked shorties. He lowered his head slowly, and followed his hands and the lowering panties with peppered kisses, the insides of Lilah's thighs, the very tops of her knees, the muscle of her calf, her outer ankles, each of her toes.

When Sam was beginning to make his slow trek back up the eternal legs, Lilah's hands that had previously clenched the bed sheets shot down to grab at his jaw and yank him up to the head of the bed. "Enough teasing," she barely managed to mumble before she claimed his mouth in a kiss, tongues exploring even further, and her feet manipulated upwards to shove her Sammy's boxers down his legs and to the end of the bed. Delilah cradled him between her hips and thighs, but he stubbornly refused to take the dive quite yet.

Sam's mouth once again covered hers, mostly to see if he could keep her moan from circuiting through the thin walls when he plunged a finger into her wetness. Eventually Lilah had to shove away the hulk's face and come up for air- even demons need to breathe- though she continued to groan quietly in his ear, tugging incessantly at his lobe with her teeth. He added two more fingers, thrusting rapidly and relishing in the feeling of her squirming and her murmurs of encouragement into his ear.

When he had decided she was aroused enough, Winchester allowed his hard-on to stroke her clit while his dripping hand traveled back up her body. Delilah quivered, and began to shake harder, moans increasing, and he could tell she was being taken to the edge of her orgasm. But, Sam being a Winchester and all, stopped abruptly. He took a concerned glance at her figure, her scars, her facial expression, and said, "If you really don't want to go any farther…"

Lilah hooked her knee around Sam's hip and rolled them over, kissing him passionately but quickly. "Do I appear in any way, sight, smell, touch, _taste_, like I'm about to stop?" Though it was a question, it sounded more like a statement. She gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth and continued to travel south, nipping, licking, and kissing any skin she came into contact with, lingering slightly on his nipples. But the moment her tongue touched the tip of his swollen appendage, he pulled her up like a child under the arms. "I don't know what all you did with Dean, but I am not going to let you do this. I'm making this night about you. Time for you to come grounded."

"No pun intended?" She asked innocently, sounding breathless.

His only reply was to flip them over again and give one hard thrust directly inside that had the demonness arching her back up to meet his chest and coming around him. Sam had to breathe deeply to prevent himself from ejaculating then and there. As Delilah came down from her recent high slowly, she relaxed her muscles around him, clutched his shoulders hard, and kissed him gently. He pulled his head up, lowered his right hand to besides her head, and quietly requested, "Open your eyes, Liles." Said woman-esque's eyes shot open at the familiarity and she managed to pant out, barely, "You haven't called me that since before Jess died." He pointedly ignored her, but continued to point his intense gaze into her own blues.

He began to slowly move inside of her, _in_ and _out_, _in _and _out_… When the dark haired beauty met his thrusts, he picked up speed, developing a faster tempo that they could both keep up with. Only a few moments later, she was coming again, her muscles tightening hard around his own hardness, and another thrust was all it took for him to join her in falling from their cliff.

He didn't even bother to pull out after they had regained their breath; simply rolled onto his side, still attached, and allowed her to pull herself together with her head rested on his shoulder. They both fell into a calm sleep, not quite nightmare free, but hey, no one woke up screaming.

Definitely a good night in their book. Sex and dreams aside.

As the sun rose, after only a few hours of sleep, Lilah woke to feel his hard-on buried deep within her and his eyes puppied opened. His hand came up to brush her hair from her face, "Good morning."

"Yeah," she kissed him, rolling so she was on top of him, "I guess it is."

"So much for a hard fuck," Sam commented dryly. "I would qualify that as simply having sexu-"

He couldn't speak when she started riding him.

Needless to say, when their mutual decision to separate and carry on their ways alone was reached two weeks later, nothing was forgotten.

Until Delilah found out she had a stomach bug another month and a half later…

_Two years, Team Free Will, and an apocalypse later…_

A sleeping one year old daughter laid in a home-carved crib as her twenty-three year old mother watched her from above.

"I know I don't belong up there, and because she has my blood she doesn't either, but God if anything happens, would you please grant her permission to have a closet upstairs rather than down?"

Had it already been almost two years? Christ. That night with her best friend had only been topped by the day she escaped downstairs torment and the evening that Dean had asked her to marry him two months before the death of his brother. And two months before the day his deal was made. The day that had set everything in motion.

A knock on the door- _What the fuck, at two in the damn morning?_- brought Delilah Keller from her quiet thoughts on Deanna and her name sake and to the visitor who so desperately needed attention as to knock on her door at this time of night. She tip-toed her way out the door and to the living room, hurriedly throwing the toys into the playpen behind the kitchen counter.

Another three knocks.

"I'm coming! One minute!" She whisper shouted in the general direction of the front door. She continued speed cleaning, shoving some case files into a desk drawer and hiding a few research books behind the bookcase. As the demonness threw on some boxer shorts and a tank top over her under-things, the visitor knocked again, this time followed by a voice:

"Look, I don't even know who's here. My brother only asked that I come to this address if anything happened to him," the voice broke at the end.

That voice sounded familiar. But, no… It couldn't be…

Keller sprinted the short distance to the door and flung it open. Only to face, "Dean?" Tears gathered in her eyes, and it took everything in her bones to prevent herself from being flung into his arms.

"Liles?" Dean let a tear drip finally. He took a step inside the door frame, opening his hands slightly.

After a quick fling of holy water and dissolved salt in a silver container, she flew into her missing lover's arms and merely squeezed the dickens from him. She held back the tears, and allowed herself to be his lifeline.

Then another thought occurred to her, one less fortunate. When tonight was over, it was going to be a bitch explaining Sam's child to him.

**A/N: So, thar ya have it. Whatever your brains came up with, I'm sure it's brilliant, and I hope you enjoyed what I came up with. Soo, yeahhh... Reviews (and cookies) are love!**


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